Skinny little Nancy Callahan grew up
by FCSimba
Summary: Nancy's side of the story, basically. A young girl who was nearly raped as a child, this is about her life then and now. Rated Teen for one adult suggestion, a few bad words, and smooching xP
1. Default Chapter

Exotic Dancer, not exactly my dream job…Then again, there isn't really anything else a girl of nineteen can do in a city like this. Tried to get out, go to college, do something with my life, but my family never could afford much. It's not like I'm trashy about it anyways, I'm as clean as they come, but only because I'm waiting for someone. I haven't found time to write him for a little while, I should probably get to it when I get home…Right now I have to concentrate on dancing.

I roll my hips a bit, the rope moves just the way I want it to, in circles above my head. The customers like this routine. Anything that gets me paid I guess. Marv sits down just in front of me, covered in bandages from god knows what, maybe I'll ask him when I get off duty—he's usually here late. Cigarette dangling from his chapped lips, must have been a rough day. My long blonde hair blows behind me, tickling my uncovered back. I bite my lip softly, smiling a little. I don't want them all to think I'm trash, so I play it innocent, hopefully they can see inside me and find out I'm really not a tramp.

Suddenly I notice someone watching me from a little ways off. Familiar, I stop dancing, I can't help but stare. I give a weak smile, could it really be him? My Hartigan? Suddenly he turns, casting a sideways glance at an odd colored fellow sitting a few seats away. He glances back calmly. He's heading for the door. I gracefully jump off the stage and run towards him. He turns just in time, I wrap my arms around him and press my lips to his. We kiss for a few seconds and then I pull away.

"Come on, let's get out of here." He says quietly.

"Sure," I say fixing the collar of his long black trench coat. "Just let me throw on some clothes."

"Nancy," he says softly, "hurry." He gives me a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

I wink and walk off, hurrying to get my things on. I tug on a white shirt and black pants, throwing my black fur coat over my shoulders. We walk outside; I can't help but stare at him. As we approach my car I study him quizzically, "And here I thought you'd forgotten all about me." I bit my shiny pink lips, coated with lip-gloss. "Me and my stupid letters." I cast my eyes down at my feet, a little embarrassed.

He turns to me abruptly, "They weren't stupid." He says firmly. "They kept me going. Kept me from killing myself."

He takes a step closer and gives me a warm hug. I stand on my tip-toes and hold him close. I smell his musky scent and remember the day we met…

Flashback

"Let her go," Hartigan says pointing his pistol at the man holding me tight in his arms, I'm only eleven and not very strong at all.

"You can't do anything to me, you know who my father is!" he practically snarls back at the brave cop trying to save my hide. "Bet you can't even lift that gun, shit cop!" he sneers.

Hartigan gives a queer smile, "Yes I can." He says firmly, pulling up his pistol and blowing Junior's ear clean off! He falls over, I scramble out of his grasp and cling to a pole…We're by the docks, it's the only thing I can find.

"Close your eyes, Nancy." He calls to me, but I can't take my eyes off the scene before me. It's impossible, so I keep watching. He takes away his weapon, both of them, shoots him right between the legs. Suddenly another fellow comes out from behind my brave Hartigan—shoots him about six times…he falls over. Obviously they know each other, I notice the badge. Probably on the same force. But why would he shoot him? "Run home Nancy…" he tells me, gasping for breath's.

The other cop looks to me, "Oh no, there's no need for that," he says, "You'll be safe here."

"Shooting your partner, then scaring a little girl?" Hartigan glares at the other man.

Hartigan reaches for the gun strapped to his leg but the other cop shoots him about five more times…The sound of sirens rises from the streets behind us, the backup must have arrived. Hartigan leans back against one of the wooden poles holding the dock…The other cop leaves. I look around and crawl into Hartigan's lap, tears drizzling down my cold cheeks. I snuggle up against him, this brave man, this man who looked just about ready to retire. My hero, my Hartigan.

End Flashback


	2. Chapter 2

"Better let me drive." I snap back to reality as he walks towards the driver's seat.

"No way," I say, smiling coyly. "I'm the only one who can keep this heap runnin'." I unlock the door and slide casually into the driver's seat; I have a pretty nice car compared to my house, except it stops from time to time. I start driving, and a few miles down the road he gets kind of stiff.

We talk for a while and it becomes apparent that something's up. "From the sound of things you might have to shoot someone," I smile at him softly, not really worrying about it. After all, he was a cop.

"I don't have a gun." He replies calmly staring at the road as we turn left and right, it's a pretty dark night and the snow is falling hard.

"Under the seat," I say slyly, giving a little cock of my head. "It's loaded and it works." I smirk, jerking my head back strait and casting a smirk his way. I'm feeling smug right about now.

He takes it out and examines it fairly thoroughly. Taking the revolver out and giving it a spin before clipping it back in and glancing over. "This'll do." He adds firmly.

"Thing kicks like a mule." I smirk giving my famous, crooked smile. "Hartigan," I turn to a more serious note, biting my lip and looking over at him. "I wanted you to know, you've never been far from my thoughts." My hair blows a little in the wind coming from the slightly open window. "So many nights I lay awake, thinking about you…"

"What are you talking about?" he cuts me off turning to face me...

Suddenly a bullet shatters the glass in the back mirror of my car. "Damn! Keep driving; keep the car on the road." Hartigan tells me opening the door slightly and leaning out the side, gun in hand.

"What are you doing?" I shriek, worried for him. I mean, it's clear he's trying to shoot the guy behind us, but I'm so worried I have to ask anyways. He doesn't bother responding however, just as I figured.

"Try and keep it on the road." He says taking careful aim. He poises the pistol just right, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot—while the guy behind us is throwing bullets away like candy. Hartigan takes his shot and hits him in the side of the neck, his car veers off the road and into a ditch.

"Stop the car, pull it over to the side of the ditch." he tells me. I can't quite compute, I'm such a wreck.

"Stop!" he shouts, louder than I expected.

"Right." I say shakily, slamming my foot on the break and turning the wheel so we're pointed at the ditch. "Sorry, I got a little rattled." I say biting my lip; I didn't want to disappoint him.

"No, you did good." He reassures me, giving me a subtle grin. "Sit tight." He nods opening the door and stepping outside.

"Wait," I say grabbing onto his sleeve, "Let me stay close? Nothing can happen to me when I'm with you." I plead. He lets me follow; I walk close behind him, careful not to get in his way. Something really smells as we get towards the crash sight. Hartigan looks around, obviously he's gone. He steps down into the ditch, holding his hand up for me to grab. I take it gently and step down beside him, pressing myself to his strong body.

"He got away," my hero voices my thoughts and we walk back towards the car.

"I wanted you to think I grew up strong." I sigh looking down, "But I'm still pathetic." I smirk half-heartedly.

Hartigan stops and looks me over; I get caught up in his eyes and lean in to kiss him softly on the lips. We hold each other close, my hair blowing softly in the wind as we're locked together. He pulls away softly; I lick my lips, trying to savor the taste of the kiss.

He doesn't say anything as we walk back towards the car. Once again I sit in the driver's seat and start heading down the road.

We arrive at this cruddy hotel, neon lights flickering from lack of power and everything. Your classic one-night-stand shack, and room number eight is ours. He leads me in and sits on the couch, spreading his legs and leaning back, like most men sit. He stares at the ceiling, taking slow, steady breaths. I take a seat beside him and crawl closer so my elbow is propped up against the back of the couch. I'm looking right at him now.

"I love you Hartigan." I say softly, staring at him with my soft hazel eyes. I lean over and kiss him again, this time he pulls away softly.

"You're just saying that Nancy, you're just tired." He sighs looking foreword, at nothing.

"Sleep with me?" I ask, biting my lip and crawling closer. I lean further in but he keeps his head turned, I get his cheek, feeling the rough stubble on my soft lips. I turn his head softly and he gives in, kissing me a little bit. He stands, looking a little shaken up.

"For god's sakes…you're just a kid."

"Hartigan…I love you."

"I'm old enough to be your grandfather. You're just tired." He says again, but I'm not sleepy at all.

"I've tried falling in love before," I explain staring at him calmly, "but I've been in love with you this whole time. Why else would I have written you for eight years?" I smile.

He studies me for a minute, "I love you too…" he says calmly, and I can tell he means it. In fact, it seems like I'm the only reason he's still going.

He walks off towards the shower, probably a good idea. I lie down on the couch, resting my cheek on my palm and closing my eyes, waiting for him to return.

Suddenly the door creaks open and in walks the yellow bastard from the bar. The one who chased us and tried to kill my Hartigan…He's here now. Before I can scream he knocks me out with the back of his gun, tying me up with some rope. Then he goes in after Hartigan…


	3. Chapter 3

The element of surprise is against us, and soon Hartigan is tied up. He moves a table under a fan hanging from the ceiling, ties one end of the rope around Hartigan's neck, the other end to the fan. He makes him stand on his tip-toes, fighting for life. If he stops standing on his toes, he'll be strangled. The yellow bastard holds me close, it's so familiar. He smells so bad. He's bleeding from his neck, must have been where my Hartigan got him. He holds onto me tight, de ja vou.

"Who are you?" Hartigan chokes out, for being about sixty-six he's strong.

"I've had to have a lot of treatments done to fix what you did to me Hartigan. But one thing stayed the same; bet you recognize my voice, don't you? I'd be really offended if you didn't recognize my voice! Shit cop, do you know how many procedures had to be done to grow back what you blew off?" he yells, I know that voice, and so does Hartigan. He squeezes me tighter and fiddles with his other hand, getting out a syringe filled with a yellow serum. He poises the needle to my neck and pierces the flesh, injecting me with what I'm guessing is a muscle relaxer. Now I'm definitely screwed.

"She's a little old for my age but that's okay…" Roarc Junior grins. "We always wondered who Cordelia was…" he continues while Hartigan watches in horror. "Clever girl. She gave not a clue as to who she was. So smart, so pretty." He smells her hair, teasing me. "I'm going to enjoy doing her all night…" he grins evilly.

"Nancy, whatever you do, don't scream." He gasps out just as the filthy bastard kicks the desk out from under him. Hartigan stays stiff, keeping the rope from cutting off his air supply, but how long can he do it?

I nod, I won't scream…he can't do anything to me that will make me scream, nothing. Not if Hartigan told me not to.

"Too bad there're so many people around…It's going to be a fantastic show. I bet you hate knowing you let the girl of your dreams down." He cackles as he takes me out of the room and gets into my car.

We drive a ways down the road and my car fails, I knew it would…Finally I'm glad it does this. "How do I get this piece of shit running?" Junior turns to me and glares, pulling on the steering wheel in frustration.

I don't say anything; he glares at me with those beady black eyes and slaps my face. "Talk!" he snarls but I keep my mouth shut. He slaps me around some more; I bite my lip and close my eyes—I have to be strong for Hartigan. He gets out of the car and hurries over to my side of it, yanking me out by my hair and throwing me into the snow. I shiver slightly; he kicks my side and then pulls me up by my neck. "Let's go, wench." He snarls leading me uphill…we travel from then on, on foot.

When we get there the yellow freak takes a whip and begins to strike my bare back, I bite my lip—I promised him I wouldn't scream…I won't, I can't. I promised…He continues to lash my back, about fifteen later he leans by my ear and snickers.

"You think this is bad? This is just foreplay," he sneers, his hot, rank, breath streaming down my face and neck.

"Pathetic." I hiss, glaring back at him with a new flame in my eyes, "You're pathetic. My Hartigan was right; you can only get it up if I scream." I narrow my eyes at him. I have to keep going; I have to believe that Hartigan is still alive; he wouldn't leave me like this. He's saved my life before, he'll do it again. I can tell he cares about me. Maybe I'm putting too much faith in the old man? No. no, I have to keep believing…it's the only thing that keeps me from screaming now as the yellow bastard lifts his fist up.

"You'll scream, they all do." He cackles just as he's about to strike my face.

Outside a shot fires. He runs to the window, "No, Hartigan, how could it be?" he studies the scene below and looks a little more satisfied than his voice sounds, could Hartigan have gotten shot? He turns back to me and glares, untying me and carrying me down the stairs, maybe Hartigan is finally dead…Maybe I should give up. As we get down to the barn floor, a tall, muscular silhouette stands in the barn door's entrance…once again the pale moonlight glints off his scar…My Hartigan has returned to me.

He takes a dagger from his side and holds it to my throat. "Don't come any closer Hartigan, or I'll cut her in ways you never imagined…" he sneers. "I'll fillet her…" He studies Hartigan a moment longer. "You can't even lift that can you?" he sneers with a sly smirk.

Hartigan tries to lift the pistol but clutches his heart and falls over instead. "I'm sorry Nancy." He says weakly.

"I'm not taking any chances." He throws Nancy to the ground and approaches Hartigan, that large dagger raised. Quick as a flash, Hartigan lifts a switch-blade from his other hand and stabs Roarc right in the gut. Roarc Junior stiffens before he falls to the ground.

Hartigan takes his weapon away, both of them…Then he begins to beat in the yellow bastard's face with all the ferocity of an angry lion, punching and punching at his fat head until his disgusting, stinky, filthy blood is spattered everywhere. He shakes his hand off and looks to me. I get to my feet as quickly as possible and throw myself into his arms. He holds me close, smelling my hair and stroking my back.

We walk all the way out to where my car is left in the middle of the street…It stopped on the way to the barn, but I didn't tell the yellow bastard how to restart it. Such a gentleman, Hartigan walked me all the way out there. I smile at him warmly and stand once more on my tip-toes, pressing my full, round, cherry lips to his and holding him close to me once more. I don't know how it could be any better.

After we kiss for a while I step back and smile, striding towards the driver's seat…He's not following so I grasp his hand. "Come on." I urge softly, blonde bangs blowing over my calm hazel eyes.

"No…" he states simply pulling his hand away, there's something sad about the way he says it.

"You're not coming with me?" I ask a little worried. What if all he wanted out of me was a little fling? No, not him, not the man who's risked so much for my safety, he loves me and I can tell.

"No, I'm going to the cops, I'm going to clear my name." he says firmly, and smiles leaning in to kiss me one more time. "I'll talk to you as soon as I can." He promises and runs his fingers through my hair, rubbing the back of my head. I smile seductively at him and nod, leaning over the hood of my car for one more second.

"Hey Hartigan, thanks for saving my life…" I smile and think a moment, "again." I add with a playful nod, I'm blushing, but only slightly. He nods and I get back in the car, driving off. I watch him in the rear view mirror until he's out of sight. As I drive away I think of a bright future for us both, together…in love…forever.


	4. Chapter 4

I get back to my apartment, it's trashed…my books all over, that's practically the only thing they didn't take. Yeah, I was robbed…again. But frankly, I don't care anymore. My Hartigan is safe, he's going to clear his name, soon we'll live together and I'll never have to be away from him again.

I get out the old beat up box containing my private and most special things. My fingers find an old book. It's about a detective named Cordeila, the name I took when writing Hartigan all those years. I smile and sigh, going through the rest of it. I find all sorts of those dreadful newspaper articles about Hartigan…Saying he raped me, saying he was the one who got to me. How could they do that to someone so noble and brave? Oh well, soon his name will be cleared.

I crawl into my bed, a crappy mattress with a sheet thrown over it, and tug my rugged old blanket over my shoulder. I can't wait until Hartigan is the one sleeping next to me. I curl up into a ball, close my eyes, and go to sleep.

When I wake up there's a newspaper thrown at my doorstep. I lift it, ready to see news about last night's events…and how the truth came out. I open the paper to the front page and scan it…and then I see it. A big picture of my Hartigan, lying dead, on the street a little ways off from where my car was. I look it over and read, he shot himself….Why? He promised he'd talk to me soon! He promised! We were supposed to be together! I hold the newspaper to my chest, tears streaming down my cheeks but I don't cry…yet. I feel a knot forming in my throat and something rock solid in my chest—pounding. I squint my eyes shut as the feeling grows and wells within me. Suddenly I can't contain it any longer and a pitiful wailing sob fills my apartment. I crumple to my knee's…crying so hard I can barely talk. "Why Hartigan, why?" I sob, biting my lip so I don't wake any more of my neighbors. I dig my nails into the carpet and let my tears drip down on the newspaper—making the writing smudge. I take my scissors out and begin to cut out the picture and article…"_I'll tack it on my wall_," I think, "_I'll keep the memory of you alive._" I finish cutting it out and do just as I thought—adding the pictures from all the other times onto the wall too.

I stand back and look at all his pictures, kissing each one. I know it's childish and immature, but all the same maybe he feels them wherever he is. "You gave up so much to save me," I say, tears still making their way down my soft cheeks and dripping off my chin. "And in the end it was your death that gave me my life…Seems like a fair trade statistically…." I mutter, still crying. "But in truth, you had so much more than me, you were a hero, I'm just some exotic dancer at a dingy pub…" I look away, feeling stupid for talking to myself. I don't know if I should attend the funeral that'll take place next week or so. I don't want him to have died in vain…

I look around and rub my shoulders; I guess I shouldn't be sobbing so hard still; after all, crying won't bring my hero back. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand and take a deep breath, "Hartigan would want me to be strong." I tell myself, exhaling sharply. I get on my clothes, ready to greet the day. I step outside. The sky is gray, covered in clouds. Rain begins to fall, making a soft 'pitting' noise against the paved streets of Sin City.

This story was based on Frank Miller's; Sin City. None of these characters are mine...unfortunately. I may be writing more VERY soon...Depending on the feedback I get.


End file.
